The Bad Boy’s Tutor: Hidden Masks Book 1

by Arthurs, Nia

  I had no idea what had gotten into him.

  The sound of a chair scraping against the floor grabbed my attention. I looked up and saw James settling into the seat across from me.

  Pushing my argument with Harley out of my mind, I grinned. “Hey, are you okay? You’re almost an hour late.”

  “I’m sorry I had you waiting.”

  “You got a B minus so I’m willing to cut you some slack.” When James said nothing, I kept talking, “I’m really proud of you. There’s nothing hard work and determination won’t do. If we keep going like this, we’ll bring up the rest of your subjects in no time.”

  “Monique.”

  My stomach dropped. The way he’d said my name, all tortured and gruff like that, I sensed that something was wrong. Feeling uncomfortable, I tried to laugh it off. “Yeah, that’s my name.”

  “I think,” James stared at his hands, “we should stop this.”

  “What? Talking?”

  “Tutoring.” His gaze found mine. They were serious, intent. He wasn’t kidding.

  “Why? You’re doing well. You’re improving.”

  “I can’t keep up with it anymore.”

  “What?”

  “Today’s our last session.”

  A stunned laugh tumbled from my lips. “James, why does it feel like you’re not telling me the truth?”

  “I really appreciate you taking out the time…”

  I was trembling with anger and hurt before he could finish the statement. James’s cutting off our tutoring sessions felt like he was breaking up with me. Crazy, I know. But I couldn’t shrug the feeling that this was his way of saying he never wanted to see me again.

  Did he feel weird learning from me now that I knew his mother routinely went to The Greasy Monkey to trash the bedrooms?

  Or maybe he was angry that we didn’t kiss in the car?

  No, that didn’t make any sense. He’d been just fine earlier today. When he came to show me his test grade, his brown eyes sparkled and his smile was wide.

  The only thing that happened between now and then was the showdown in the parking lot.

  So this was about Harley? Or Eric?

  “I don’t understand,” I mumbled. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Why do you need a reason?”

  “I don’t need one,” I said. “I’m asking for one.”

  “I already told you—”

  “Bull. There’s no reason you can’t keep up with tutoring unless…”

  He glanced up.

  His argument with Marissa played out in my head. “Did Marissa tell you to do this?”

  Shock flickered in his eyes. He covered it quickly, but I’d seen enough. Marissa had probably given an ultimatum and, in the end, James chose her.

  Of course he would. She was his girlfriend.

  My heart throbbed painfully. It was hard to speak, but I forced the words past my lips. “Okay. I understand.”

  “It’s not like that, Monique. I swear.”

  “Yeah.” I gathered my books and placed them into my bag one-by-one. “Tutoring is officially over.”

  He slumped into his chair.

  I cleared my throat. “Since we didn’t finish the full month, I’ll return the rest of your money.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I insist.”

  James put his hand on mine then pulled it back like I was diseased. “Don’t. Think of it as a cancelation fee.”

  I nodded.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I zipped my bag up. “Nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who should apologize. You kept up your end of the deal by getting Harley into Eric’s band and I even took all your money...”

  “This isn’t your fault.”

  I slung my bag over my shoulder and stepped toward the door, but walking away seemed wrong. I turned back. “Will you call me if you have a problem you can’t solve? I know we’re not meeting again, but you did pay for the whole month and I don’t think it’s right to take your money without giving anything in return.”

  “Uh…”

  “Call me,” I said resolutely. “Until I feel you’ve gotten your money’s worth, call me anytime.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Thank you.”

  If I stuck around, I’d probably say something sappy and stupid, so I wheeled around and sprinted out of the library. Tears burned the back of my eyes.

  I headed into the nearest bathroom. The door slammed shut behind me. I ran to the sink and turned on the faucet, cupping my hands beneath the spout. I splashed my face with water and watched it drip into my clothes.

  What was wrong with me?

  I grabbed the front of my shirt and twisted, willing the pain in my chest to subside. My heart ached. Literally. I’d never felt this way in my entire life.

  The smell of cigarette smoke filled the air. I straightened and glanced around, holding my nose high and taking a deep whiff.

  Who would be smoking in here? Most people fled to their homes the moment the bell rang. Only students in extra-curricular clubs and athletics teams lingered on campus after three. I checked my phone. It was almost five o’clock.

  Someone sniffed.

  A different person or the smoker?

  I was about to call out and check when a bathroom door swung open and Angie stepped out. She froze when she saw me, one hand on the bathroom knob and the other curved around a disappearing cigarette stub.

  “Angie?” I peered closer and saw her tear-stained cheeks. “Are you okay?”

  She sniffed and pasted a grin on her face that was so fake and brittle, if I touched her it would shatter. “I’m great.”

  “Were you crying?”

  She swiped her cheek. “Me? No, the smoke just irritated my eyes.”

  “Oh.”

  “So,” Angie approached the bathroom sink and washed her hands, “what are you still doing here?”

  “I had to meet someone. You?”

  “Same thing.”

  I studied her, glad I could focus on something other than my own problems for a moment.

  “What?” Angie pinched her dark cheeks. “Do I look weird or something?”

  “Are you really okay?” I whispered.

  “I’m fine.” Her voice warbled and huge tears spilled from her eyes. Still, her smile didn’t waver. “Really, you don’t have to worry about me.”

  My gaze raked her braided hair, her trembling chin, the shirt that said ‘Life is Meaningless’ and the torn jeans. From the moment I met her, Angie seemed so strong and unbreakable yet, here she was, falling apart in front of me.

  I strolled over and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. She elbowed me at first, squirming in discomfort. I just held on, giving her comfort and drawing the same from her.

  “Why are you making things weird, Heathcliff?” Angie asked between sobs.

  “This is your fault.”

  “What?”

  “You’re the one who barged into my life demanding we be friends. This is what you get.”

  She made a sound that was half-sob, half-chuckle.

  “I don’t need to know what’s going on. That’s fine. You can share what you’re comfortable with, but save the fake smiles and the tough act for someone else. You don’t have to wear a mask with me.”

  She stared at the floor, saying nothing.

  Deciding to give her some space, I squeezed her shoulder and moved to leave.

  “I like someone.”

  I froze, my sneakers brushing against the floor.

  Angie quietly added, “He doesn’t like me back.”

  “Is that why you’re so interested in unrequited love?”

  She nodded sadly. “I’m studying it because… I’m in one.” Wringing her hands together, Angie admitted, “I’ve had a crush on him since I was twelve. He’s a lot older and I thought he’d never notice me. Recently, some things happened and I thought I had a chance.”

  She started crying again and I rubbed her back. “W
hat happened?”

  “He told me he’s engaged. She’s exactly his age. They went to the same college and have the same friends.” Angie glared at the ceiling. “Stupid. He’d rather have an old hag like her than me.”

  Angie was only sixteen. If the guy she liked was older, I doubted his fiancée would be an ‘old hag’. But that wasn’t what she needed to hear right now.

  “Maybe they’ll break up before the wedding.”

  She smiled. “Is the pure and perfect Monique wishing ill on someone?”

  I shrugged. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to give up hope. Maybe he doesn’t want to start something with you because you’re so young and he could get in trouble.”

  “Maybe.” She sighed. “What about you? Why were you upset?”

  “I wasn’t upset.”

  “Please. I heard you sighing from a mile away.”

  I gripped the sink. “Let’s just say, Catherine got married to Edgar.”

  “Oy. James chose Marissa?”

  I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

  She studied me and then brightened. “You know what I’m in the mood for? Ice cream.”

  “Ice cream?”

  She slung her arms over my shoulder. “I’m buying.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Come on, Heathcliff. Let’s both drown our sorrows in rocky road.”

  “I prefer Oreo ice cream.”

  “Then you shall have that!” She thrust her arms theatrically. “I’ve sulked and bawled enough to last a decade. The teenage angst is killing me. Let’s forget our man trouble and just hang, hm?”

  Angie dragged me to the ice cream shop and I had more fun than I thought I would.

  A week ago, I never imagined I’d enjoy spending time with someone like her, but as we ate ice cream and discussed our favorite books, I realized that the faces people wear aren’t always a reflection of who they are.

  If I hadn’t seen past Angie’s mask, I would have missed out on a really great friend.

  17

  Do It Yourself

  James

  Dad had a ‘business trip’ that weekend so I took Mom out to her favorite restaurant to distract her. She dressed in a beautiful green gown. Dad’s gift from last week sparkled on her neck. In the flickering light of the candle, she looked pretty and young.

  “Your teacher called me yesterday,” Mom said, forking a lettuce.

  “What? Why?”

  “He said you’d gotten a B minus on your test. It was the highest grade in the class and the highest you’d ever gotten.”

  “I didn’t cheat,” I blurted.

  Mom laughed charmingly. “No one’s accusing you of cheating, son. Your teacher called to let me know that you were improving.” She chewed and said glibly, “That tutor you hired is worth the money.”

  “You… knew about my tutoring?”

  “James, you do realize that every time you withdraw from the account your father and I get a notification? It was a significant sum too. Your father was livid but I told him I would handle it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that you knew?”

  “You’d invested in your education. I didn’t see it as an issue.”

  “Is that why you asked my teachers to report to you?”

  “I asked for updates on your grades to see if it was money well spent. It was. All’s well that ends well.”

  I pushed my fork around my plate. “I can’t believe you were spying on me.”

  “Spying is a harsh word.” She eyed me over her salad. “What’s the problem, dear?”

  “Nothing, I just... I’m not getting tutored any more.”

  “Why? Did your teacher quit?”

  “No, I did.”

  Mom’s eyes widened. “When you were doing so well? What possessed you to stop?”

  “I was tired of it.”

  “James Sawyer, don’t be ridiculous. Call that tutor and get him back right now.”

  “It’s a her and… I can’t.”

  “Why not?” Mom demanded.

  “My tutor was Monique.”

  “Oh.” Mom leaned back, a glimmer in her eyes. “So it’s not just business. It’s personal.” She tapped her fingers against the table. “Matters of the heart can be tricky.”

  “It’s fine. We weren’t that serious anyway.”

  “Is the matter with Monique all that’s bothering you?”

  I toyed with the idea of announcing Marissa’s pregnancy. It was the perfect moment for it and I was sure Mom could advise me on what I could do as Marissa neared the end of her first trimester.

  At the last minute, I held back. Marissa and I had already decided to tell our parents together. I would honor that promise and wait until we could sit all the adults down in one room.

  “It’s nothing,” I said finally.

  “Let me tell you a little something about women.” Mom took a sip of her wine. “We’re seen as complicated creatures, but that’s only because men don’t know how to read us. If you love Monique, talk to her and work out your differences. It’s that easy.”

  “I don’t love her, Mom.”

  “How are you so sure?”

  Because I don’t hit her in the face when I’m pissed. “Because I haven’t had great examples when it comes to that.”

  Mom went quiet.

  I hated myself for bringing Dad into the conversation. “I’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “It’s okay, honey.”

  I stared at my napkin. “Things are complicated. I care for Monique, but I can’t be with her for… reasons. It’s better if we keep our distance.”

  “Then you do that.” She reached out and squeezed my hand. “If it’s meant to be, you’ll find your way back to each other.”

  I smiled at her, but deep inside I disagreed. Marissa would start showing soon. Rumors would fly around the school and Monique would find out about the baby.

  When she did, it was all over.

  Things were better this way. I could pull back before my feelings deepened and Monique could make a run for it before we got too entangled with each other.

  I fed myself that lie all through the weekend.

  And it worked.

  Until I saw Monique at her locker on Monday.

  My eyes devoured her from the tip of her head to the soles of her scuffed tennis shoes. I felt like a man who’d gotten his first drink of water after years of wandering the desert.

  When she turned around, our eyes met.

  My heart raced.

  Should I go over? Talk to her?

  Monique glanced away first and headed to her class. It was a clear snub, yet there was a part of me that wanted to follow her.

  I remained in place.

  What would I say? I miss you? I’m having a kid with Marissa but I want you to be my girlfriend?

  She’d laugh in my face.

  I forced my feet to turn and head in the opposite direction. Baz met me on the way up the stairs.

  “Sup, Baz.” We slapped hands.

  “We had practice this weekend. Eric got the Christmas tree lighting gig.”

  “I know. He told me.”

  “It’s weird practicing without you, but hopefully I’ll get used to it.”

  “Is that your way of turning me down?”

  “No hard feelings, right? As much as I want to help you, I can’t bail on Eric.”

  I was disappointed, but I already knew that stealing Baz would be a long shot. His parents were the total opposite of mine. They took all vows—from small promises to marriage—seriously.

  Baz slapped my shoulder. “Cheer up, man. You can make it big on your own. Why don’t you dump the band idea and go solo?”

  “Are you trying to console me now that I’ve lost you and Harley to Eric?”

  “About that,” Baz leaned closer, “I thought you said that Eric didn’t want Harley in the band?”

  “He took him back thinking he’d use it as leverage.” I shrugged. �
�Eric made the wrong call. I only wanted Harley because Monique was worried about him. It doesn’t matter to me where he goes.”

  “What are you going to do now?”

  “I’ll seriously consider going solo. Before, I wasn’t sure I wanted to pursue music as a career. It’s too risky, you know.”

  “Tell me about it. My parents would keel over if I ditched becoming an engineer to play bass in a band.”

  “Mine too, but I’m ready to go all in. Music is what I was meant to do. I know that for sure.”

  “If anyone can do it, you can. Just remember me when you go triple platinum.”

  I laughed.

  The bell rang.

  Baz thrust his fist in the air. “I’m rooting for you, Sawyer.”

  I bumped his fist with my own and headed to class.

  Most of the lessons flew way over my head. I drove off campus for lunch, afraid of bumping into Monique in the cafeteria.

  When I headed back to school, I saw a black car hanging outside the gates. The windows were heavily tinted and the engine was off, but two men sat in the front seat. I eyed them in my side mirror. They looked suspicious, but it wasn’t any of my business.

  I shrugged the observation off and prepared for the next slot of classes. I slept through most of the afternoon and woke when the bell rang.

  My steps automatically took me to the library. When I realized where I was going, I stopped in the middle of the hallway and then turned back, hurrying to get away from anything that would remind me of Monique.

  In my haste, I bumped into a slim girl. She hurled a curse at me and straightened. “Watch where you’re going, buddy.”

  “Sorry,” I said.

  She studied me and recognition lit her eyes. “Hey, Catherine!”

  Catherine? Her face didn’t ring any bells, but that name did. Hers was Angie. She was hanging with Monique when I told her about my test last week.

  “My name is James, remember?”

  “Right. James. Where were you going in such a rush?”

  I shrugged. “Nowhere.”

  “I see.” Her dark eyes twinkled with mischief. She had a thin face and sharp cheekbones. That, paired with her rich, dark skin gave her a striking look. She could be a model, but her clothes said she wouldn’t subscribe to such a conventional standard of beauty.